


Moment of Weakness, A

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 2nd Age - Rings, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ring decides to test Boromir's resolve in Rivendell, placing Elladan in danger.</p><p>This was designed as a one-shot, but I have been asked to continue it.........still undecided. One of the perk of being a woman :)</p><p>This has violence and some NCS tendencies. No rape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moment of Weakness, A

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Elladan leant on the rail of the balcony leading to his room. The stars were bright tonight, blanketing the sky in shimmering warmth, smiling down on the souls troubled after the earlier council meeting. He was glad for their comforting presence this night, losing himself in the serenity in which they enveloped him.

He had watched, bemused, as the meeting descended into chaos. Tempers flared, unwarranted accusations flew. All because of one ring. One tiny gold band that held, and radiated, more evil than an army of a thousand orcs. Leaving destruction and mistrust in its wake.  
The raven haired elf smiled slightly, as he remembered Elrohir arguing almost nose to nose with the human Boromir, after the latter had made the mistake of questioning Gandalf’s judgement over the danger and fate of Sauron’s deadliest weapon.

Boromir

Elladan frowned, his mind still trying to comprehend the curious incident that had occurred just after the man had finished arguing with Elrohir.  
The steward had stopped amidst the raised voices of those surrounding him. His head tilting slightly, as if he were listening intently to one voice in particular.  
Even being an elf, Elladan had found it virtually impossible to discern a single vocal amongst the cacophony of heated discussions.  
Suddenly, Boromir had turned to him, locking Elladan’s grey eyes with his own. The elf had frozen with the intensity of the gaze. He felt paralyzed, as if the man were trying to gain access to his very soul, such was the scrutiny.

The arguing had ceased, the hobbit Frodo having declared that he would bear the ring.  
Still Boromir locked his gaze with Elladan. There was no malice in the stare; in fact it was difficult for the elf to discern any emotion at all behind those deep green eyes.

Gandalf offered to accompany the young hobbit on his quest.

Still Boromir stared, the tentative beginnings of a smile curling his thin lips.

Aragorn pledged his sword and skill.

Still he stared. Elladan swallowed nervously, but was unwilling to show weakness by breaking eye contact first.

Legolas stepped forward, pledging his assistance.

Boromir’s smile widened, his eyes growing dark as his gaze left the grey orbs of Elladan, and travelled the length of the elf’s body.

Gimli the dwarf spoke up.

Elladan felt his body slump in relief as he was finally freed when Boromir turned to promise his support.

The slender elf sighed as he turned from the railing, removing the clasp from his hair as he made his way back into his room.  
His first instinct had been to find the steward of Gondor and demand an explanation for the curious event. But something about the intensity and underlying darkness of the wordless exchange told him to leave it be. He had not seen the man since that morning.  
‘Maybe it was simply the heat of the moment’, Elladan thought, as he untied the top two laces of his tunic and picked up a brush, smoothing the tangles from his silken raven locks.  
‘Maybe.........’  
“So beautiful.”

Elladan jumped, dropping his brush, startled out of his thoughts by a voice from a dark corner of his room.  
His eyes widened as they adjusted to the darkness, and alighted upon the figure of the very last person he expected, or wanted, to see in his chambers.  
“Lord Boromir”, the elf whispered.  
Elladan felt his throat constrict slightly, his heartbeat quickening in trepidation.  
“What are you doing here?”  
Nothing had time to register in Elladan’s mind, as he suddenly found himself pinned against the wall, a small battle knife held firmly at his throat.  
“Boromir wha.........?” the elf gasped.  
“Sssshh my dark prince”, the man cut in, smirking as he drank in the sight of his frightened prisoner.  
Lust darkened green once again met with startled, confused grey. Elladan look deeply into the eyes of his aggressor, sensing something new, something foreign behind the gaze.  
A whisper of darkness, the ghost of evil, showing itself in fleeting moments. The elf gasped silently, his stomach convulsing in shock, sending an icy shiver down his spine.  
“I am not the only captive here”, he whispered. The closeness of the man causing Elladan’s breath to disturb the stray wisps of hair around Boromir’s features.  
The steward of Gondor bent forward, burying his face in the shining ebony of Elladan’s hair and breathing deeply.  
“You intoxicate me elf. Your scent....”  
Elladan suppressed a choked sob as Boromir ran his tongue over the elf’s lips.  
“Your taste......”  
Boromir mapped the contours of Elladan’s body with his free hand, smiling at the gasp of outrage as he cupped the elf’s crotch through his leggings.  
“The feel of you......”  
Elladan gritted his teeth, his stomach churning as numbing terror and blazing anger battled in a grim dance within him.  
“You have no right.......” he seethed.  
“No right?!” Boromir spat. His face so close to Elladan’s the elf could feel the vile wetness of the man’s vehemence spray his face. He recoiled in disgust, fighting the bile threatening to rise in his throat.  
“You think yourself above me son of Elrond?!”  
Boromir exerted slight pressure on the knife, causing a slight hiss of pain from Elladan as the sharp tip broke his skin. A thin line of crimson fluid ran down his neck, pooling at the hollow of his throat.  
“I did not think myself above you before”, the elf whispered, locking eyes with his tormentor, “but now I cannot help but believe I am above the level to which you have declined.”  
Boromir roared in frustration, hurling Elladan forcibly onto the bed. The raging man removed his leather belt, forcing his captive’s hands to the bedpost and securing them tightly.  
He straddled the struggling, terrified elf, once more bringing his knife to the smooth pale column of his victim’s throat.  
He chuckled softly at the look of horror and outrage in Elladan’s deep grey eyes.  
“Do I frighten you elf?” he growled, running the flat of his blade over the soft contours of Elladan’s face.  
“No”, he answered, unable to keep the tremor from his voice.  
“But the evil controlling you petrifies me.”  
Boromir brought his free hand down harshly against Elladan’s cheek, his own features contorted in an unnatural rage. He curled his fist in the dazed elf’s hair, forcing their faces closer.  
“*I* am the only one in control here elf!” he spat, his teeth clenched in an angry grimace.  
Elladan was breathing heavily, his mind trying desperately not to give in to the panic surging through his body like a deadly back draft.  
“You know that is not true Boromir. I’ve looked into your eyes; I’ve seen the battle raging within you. What chance do you have out there? How are you going to control the influence the ring has over you when you are cold, tired, hungry and battle-worn? When the burden of the quest weighs heavily on your weary shoulders? You are in Imladris now, sleeping comfortably and well in a warm bed. Your mind and body are rested. Your belly is full and content. Yet still you are too weak of mind and spirit to resist the temptation of the evil whispering. How do you expect to honour your commitment to the fellowship when you so easily succumb to the ring’s influence?!”  
The terror and frustration within Elladan had manifested itself as raging anger at the blindness and insane arrogance of his captor. Boromir recoiled off of the bed at the fire in the elf’s eyes.  
“I......I.....”, he stammered, stumbling backwards, the knife falling from his grasp, the noise as it hit the floor reverberating around the room, causing Elladan to wince at the pain in his sensitive ears.  
Boromir looked over at the bound elf, his eyes filling with tears of remorse and self loathing as his mind began its journey to the realisation of what he had done. He couldn’t be sure if Elladan’s tirade had broken the spell over him, if he had won the dark battle within himself, or whether the ring had severed its influence purposefully, its evil relishing the man’s anguish and torment.  
Again Boromir was upon the elf, burying his face in the crook of Elladan’s neck. This time, however, he was weeping openly.  
“Help me...” he whimpered, holding Elladan tightly as if he were a lifeline to the drowning man.  
Elladan’s body shuddered violently, his bottom lip trembling with the pent up rage he now felt unwilling to release on the sobbing man laying on him.  
Boromir’s violent weeping was brought to an abrupt halt as he felt the cold steel tip of a sword at the back of his collar.

“Get away from my brother lest I separate your head from your neck!”  
Elladan looked up to see Elrohir standing beside his bed, his eyes fired with loathing and outrage at the scene before him.  
Boromir raised himself slowly and cautiously from the bed, backing carefully toward the open door of the bedroom, away from the outstretched sword of Elladan’s twin.  
“El.....Elrohir......” he stammered, “.....please...please forgive me. This isn’t what it looks like I.........”  
Boromir switched his crestfallen gaze to Elladan.  
“Oh by the gods I am so sorry!” he sobbed, turning and running from the room.  
Elrohir lowered his sword and turned to his trembling brother.  
“Oh Elladan”, he breathed, striding to the bed and freeing his twin from the restraints holding his wrists.  
“What did he do to you?”  
“Nothing”, Elladan replied, his voice shaking as he sat up, falling into his brother’s embrace.  
Tears came unbidden as his body gave in to violent tremors. By the valar he just wanted to hit something! To strangle the man! To......to........  
Hi fists clenched the material of Elrohir’s tunic tightly, his teeth grinding painfully as his senses were overwhelmed with the reality of the horror he had just been subjected to.  
Elrohir wrapped his arms protectively round his beloved brother, as he kissed the top of Elladan’s head, trying to soothe away the emotions wracking his twin’s body.  
“How dare he?!” Elrohir growled, “He will pay for what he has done.”  
Elladan snuggled deeper into the warmth and security of his brother’s body, overwhelming fatigue making his limbs and tear ravaged eyes feel heavy.  
“It is not he fault Ro”, he said softly. “He is weak; the ring was quick to pick up on that, to exploit it for its own purposes.”  
“What does it have to gain by leading Boromir to attack you so?”  
“I do not know”, Elladan honestly replied, stifling a yawn. “Maybe to weaken his resolve further. You saw his reaction to what he had done; the self deprecation in his eyes. A man who does not believe in himself is easily led. He is searching for a life of power and respect, the ring is searching for a way to return to its master. It identified Boromir’s susceptibility at the meeting. I fear for the quest. I fear for him.”  
“You fear for him? Elladan, he does not deserve your concern.”  
“In his heart he is a good and noble man Ro. In his heart, his actions are for the good of his people. But, in his determination to prove himself, to prove his worth, he wishes to be the one to lead his people to the glory he feels they deserve. He wants them to be great; he wants himself to be greater.”  
Elrohir sighed.  
“It will lead to his ruin.”  
“I fear it will brother. The ring will take him and shame him. He will fall with the need to redeem himself”, Elladan murmured, his body, mind and spirit giving in to exhaustion.  
Elrohir laid his sleeping twin on the bed, before walking to the door and locking it securely. He removed his boots and curled himself protectively round his brother.  
“Sleep beloved”, he whispered, planting a soft kiss on Elladan’s lips.  
“We will speak with ada on this matter in the morning.”  
Elladan murmured softly, rolling over to snuggle into the comforting warmth of his brother’s arms. Elrohir smiled, stroking his twin’s raven hair as he succumbed to what would be a fitful sleep.


End file.
